


i have not winced nor cried aloud

by Snickfic



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: Nakia is a war dog; she is trained to see beneath the surface. She sees the minute tremble as Natasha brings another bite to her mouth.
Relationships: Nakia (Black Panther)/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26
Collections: Little Black Dress Flash 2020





	i have not winced nor cried aloud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HogwartsToAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Не дрогнув и не застонав](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859012) by [Simuran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simuran/pseuds/Simuran)



She is exhausted, the Russian-turned-American-turned-fugitive with no country to call her own. She hides it well, but Nakia is a war dog; she is trained to see beneath the surface. She sees the minute tremble as Natasha brings another bite to her mouth. Natasha meets Nakia’s eye across the table as she chews. She lifts an eyebrow, and somehow it says, _Babysitting me is below your pay grade_. It says _Look at me, I’m obviously not a threat_ and _What are you looking at, I’m perfectly fine_ both at the same time.

Natasha doesn’t say any of those things aloud, so Nakia isn’t required to respond. Natasha eats the last of her rice and chicken. She drains the last drops of water from her mug and sets it on the table. “Well,” she says, and then seems at a loss. 

“Are you?” Nakia says. “Well, that is.”

Natasha huffs softly, a sound that could be a laugh, but isn’t. She doesn’t lie to Nakia, despite the opening, and that means something. She’s stopped over in Wakanda a few times in the past year, taken one night’s shelter and food and flashed a wry smile to the handful of Wakandans she sees. There’s no sign of that smile now: another disguise set aside. Nakia wonders where Natasha has been this time. She wonders if this time Natasha would tell her, if she asked.

“Stay with us a for a few days,” Nakia says, as she has before.

For the first time, Natasha doesn’t say no. She looks into the middle distance between them and says nothing at all.

Nakia rises. She offers Natasha her hand. “Let us take care of you.”

Natasha considers the creases of Nakia’s palm like she can read her future there. Finally, with a shaky sigh, she takes it. Her fingers are cool. Nakia helps her to her feet and then finds she doesn’t want to let Natasha go—and when she tries, for just a moment it feels like Natasha isn’t going to let her. When Natasha meets her eyes this time, Nakia sees something hungry. Or something starved, maybe, a hopeless, empty ache.

Nakia has no use for hopelessness. She leads Natasha to the shower and stands guard outside it. “So you don’t drown,” she says, and Natasha laughs, exhausted but honest. 

She comes out a little while later in the sleeping robe Nakia left for her, her shocking red hair bound up and hidden away in a towel. She comes to a stop in front of Nakia and says, “I didn’t drown.”

“Mission accomplished.” Nakia offers her a smile, letting her in on the joke. “I can let you rest now, if you like.” It seems by far the likeliest outcome, no matter what she saw in Natasha’s eyes—or what she thought she saw.

Natasha doesn’t reply. She gives Nakia another long look, and then she halves the distance between them and stops again, close enough that Nakia can hear the shaky sound of her breath.

It’s Nakia who moves at last. She takes that last half a step, closes her fingers around Natasha’s hand, and puts her mouth to Natasha’s. Natasha sighs against Nakia, soft and weary: a surrender. Nakia catches Natasha’s upper lip. It is a slow and careful kiss. When Natasha eventually breaks it, she rests her forehead against Nakia’s. “Come to bed,” Nakia says. “Let me take care of you,” she says this time— _me_ , not _us_. She hopes Natasha will hear the difference. She thinks she will.


End file.
